The Bachelor Isn't Interested/Chapter Three
Chapter Three: An Arrow Straight to My Heart “Last time on Total Drama Island: For Your Entertainment, the mob of fans was crazy, but the new contestants were even crazier!” The camera switched from a shot of Chris standing in front of the fountain in The Hotel’s lobby to a montage of clips from the previous episode. “Our premiere had it all, from strange flying machines to imaginary basketball games, guitars almost set aflame to butlers delivering designer luggage, a hyperactive redhead to one bodacious blonde!” Chris whistled in appreciation as a shot panning up Irina’s body played on the screen. “The players were separated into two teams right before facing their first challenge: surviving fifteen minutes with a famous hostess without boring the audience. We saw the best and the worst from some of our competitors, as Avery received a verbal lashing from Opal Winfrey, Robert got the waterworks flowing with the tale of his injury, Zack destroyed the entire set, and Sebastian stole one hostess’s information on the other contestants with a devious plan in mind. In the end, The Oscars were sent to elimination, and camera shy country boy Josh was the first competitor sent packing.” Chris pulled a rose out of his pocket and held it up to his nose, taking a whiff of its scent. “Will our contestants be able to earn their teammates’ love, or will we see a lot of broken hearts? Find out on this exciting episode of Total … Drama … Island: For Your Entertainment!” The host tossed the flower at the camera as the theme song began to play. “Hey, man, can I move your alarm clock over a little?” “Not a problem.” Paul glanced away from the shirts he was folding to where Eric stood in front of the nightstand. “What are you going to put there inst-” The Boy Scout flinched when the jock knocked his alarm clock to the floor, the device shattering and sending its pieces flying in all directions. Eric dumped an armful of stones into the vacated spot on the nightstand, carefully sorting them based on criteria that only he seemed to know. “Oh … more rocks?” “Yeah, more rocks.” Eric whipped his head around to glare at his teammate. “You got a problem with that?” “No, no, not at all!” Paul turned away from his roommate, though he really had nowhere else to look. Two-thirds of the room was already covered in other pieces of the rockhound’s extensive collection. Confession Cam Paul: “When we got back from the elimination, The Emmys had already eaten and gotten settled, but whoever had cooked was gracious enough to leave us some leftovers. Chef cut our dinner short to assign rooms, telling us that The Emmys were on the second floor with Chris, so we were stuck on the third floor with him.” The do-gooder gave the camera a grimace. “Chef’s in the suite at the end of the hall, so luckily I’m way on the other side with Eric in Room 308. I don’t know if all the rooms are this nice, but ours has two beds separated by a nightstand, the ugliest armchair I’ve ever seen, and a set of drawers with a broken television on top. I’d say it’s pretty good for Total Drama standards, but my real issue is my roommate. I mean, Eric seems nice, but …” Paul glanced to both sides before lowering his voice to a whisper. “His rock collection is huge and he won’t keep any of them in his bag. He’s literally covered seventy five percent of the room with them. There’re rocks on the floor, rocks in the drawers, rocks on the nightstand, heck, I wouldn’t even be surprised if he’d snuck some into my bed. Now, maybe I could deal with that, but then …” “So, um …” Paul fished for a topic of conversation, though everywhere he looked all he could see were stones. “You really like rocks, don’t you?” “Yeah, son.” Eric crossed his arms triumphantly. “Started it when I was a kid and kept with it even when I got really good at everything else.” “That’s cool, I guess.” Paul tried to hide his confusion at being called “son” and pulled a bag of toiletries from his suitcase. “I’m going to go put my toothbrush in the bathroom.” “Whatever you want.” Eric focused back on arranging his rocks as Paul opened the bathroom door. His attention was immediately pulled back when his roommate screeched and slammed the door shut. “What the hell, man?!” “There’s a girl changing in our bathroom!” Paul yelped. “Oh, no way!” Eric enthusiastically leapt over the bed, opening the bathroom door with an excited grin. His face fell, however, when he saw a fully clothed and very annoyed Avery standing behind it. “Yo, what’re you doing in our bathroom?” “I should be asking you the same question.” Avery opened the door behind her, revealing that the restroom was connected to a room that was nearly identical to Paul and Eric’s. “This is my bathroom, too.” Confession Cam Paul: “… And that’s how we figured out that every pair of rooms shares a bathroom.” The green-eyed teen leaned his chin on his hands as he continued his earlier interview. “Not only am I sharing my space with Eric and his rock collection, but with Avery and Allison, who haven’t gotten along since they stepped off the bus.” He furrowed his brow. “I’ve never lived with a girl other than my mom, so I really have no idea what to expect. Considering the fact that I’ve already walked in on Avery changing, I don’t think I’m off to a good start.” “So then Paola was like, ‘''No seas pendejo'', Angel, and just tell me where my Chemistry final is!’ So I just pointed to the pile of ash again and she flipped!” “And you didn’t get suspended or anything?” “Nah, man, what goes on at home stays at home. The teacher can’t call me out for burning my stepsister’s term paper if he didn’t see it.” Isaac gaped at Angel from across the gap between their beds. “Dude, I got in-school suspension just for leaving the building to get a burger for lunch.” The pyromaniac shrugged nonchalantly. “They used to try that crap, but it got hard to believe the ‘My stepbrother burned it’ excuse every time those brats forgot their homework, so I’m usually off the hook.” Isaac laughed. “I can’t believe it. You accidentally found a way to cheat the system.” “Hey, don’t question it if it works.” Angel chuckled along with his new roommate. When their laughter died down, a crooked smirk spread across Isaac’s face. “I think this is the start of an amazing friendship.” “You’ve got that right.” Angel agreed. The pair of Oscars leaned across the space separating their beds and bumped fists, wordlessly sealing their newfound bond. “Since I know nobody wants to have to deal with any bathroom drama, I made this shower schedule for us.” Monique taped a piece of paper with a neat table on it to the bathroom mirror. “If you could all look at it and voice any complaints now, that’d be – hey! Don’t touch that!” The fashionista shot daggers at Zack’s reflection, and the inventor froze in the middle of unscrewing the shower head. “Sorry, sorry!” He backed out of the bathroom with his hands behind his back as Elena entered from the other door to examine Monique’s schedule. “This isn’t going to work.” The hotel heiress complained, her stink eye vastly overtaking the one that Monique had given Zack. “I need at least twenty minutes after I shower to do my hair.” “We all have equal time.” Monique explained. “Everyone gets forty-five minutes in here to themselves every morning to do their business.” “But that’s not enough! I need twenty minutes for my hair.” “And you have forty-five! I don’t know how crappy you are at math, but that’s twice the amount of time you need!” “Yeah, but I take forty-five minute showers!” Elena ran a hand through her curls. “I know you don’t get this, but it takes time to look this beautiful. It's a long process to get my hair this luscious, and if I’m not given enough time to do every step then we’re going to have a problem.” “Oh, we’ll have a problem –” Monique gritted her teeth to stop herself from completely snapping. She took a deep breath before speaking through a clenched jaw, “You know what? Fine. I’ll … I’ll work it out somehow.” “You’d better ‘work it out’ or else you’ll be getting the boot at the next elimination.” The socialite remarked over her shoulder as she left the room. Monique ripped her schedule from the mirror and started to scribble all over it, severely ticked off by her new roommate’s actions. “She can have some of my time.” Sebastian said from where he leaned against the doorframe. “I’m not going to need it all.” “''Anything'' to let Miss Priss have her way.” Monique rolled her eyes and hastily rewrote the schedule. She stuck it back to the mirror and then turned to Sebastian, who was studying a notecard. “Thank you for that.” “It was an easy fix.” He shrugged. “Judging by the look on your face, you might’ve murdered Elena if I hadn’t intervened.” “I definitely wanted to.” “So why did you let her get her way?” “I don’t need to be making enemies just yet. I’m saving the murder for at least Day Two.” Monique grinned, looking down at the index card in the gambler’s hand. “What’s that?” “A playing card.” Sebastian lied, tucking the stolen goods into his pocket. “Just trying out a new trick, that’s all.” “Can I see?” “No.” Sebastian stepped back into his room and shut the door on Monique. The designer rolled her eyes. “Whatever, freak.” All twenty-one contestants had survived any roommate skirmishes and were sleeping soundly when McLean Studios was illuminated by the early morning sun. Most of the teenagers were not the type to awaken at the crack of dawn, however, and were instead summoned several hours later when the scent of fresh bacon and eggs wafted through the air. Cara sat up straight in her bed at the smell of bacon, her dreams interrupted by images of fried animals. She reached over to wake Camille, but her roommate was missing from her bed. “Camille?” Cara yawned, getting to her feet and scrunching her nose at the thick scent of pork in the air. She heard the faucet running in the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Are you in there?” When she didn’t receive a response, Cara rapped on the door again and it immediately swung open, putting her face-to-face with Isaac. “You’re not Camille …” “Probably the exact opposite, actually.” The blond said, turning back towards the sink to continue brushing his teeth. Cara followed him into the bathroom, slipping an arm in between her teammate and the sink to shut the running water off. Isaac raised a confused eyebrow, and the brunette smiled back. “Waste not, want not.” She advised, grabbing her hairbrush from beside the sink and heading back into her room. Isaac let out an amused snort before turning the sink back on again, cupping his hands beneath the faucet and slurping some water into his mouth. He gargled loudly and then spit it into the sink before calling out, “For the record, I heard your roommate in the shower at like four in the morning.” “Really?” Cara propped herself against the bathroom doorway, now out of her pajamas and into her daily wear. “Why would she do that?” “Do I look like I care?” “Where’s your roommate?” “I think his bacon senses were tingling. He ran downstairs before I could even smell anything.” Isaac leaned an arm against the door out of his room. “Now that I mention it, I’d really like to get to the cafeteria before all the food’s gone.” “You’re going down to breakfast like that?” Cara gestured towards the gray sweatpants that were slung loosely around Isaac’s hips, the slacker’s only visible article of clothing. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know there was a dress code for breakfast. Let me go find my tux.” Cara shook her head at the troublemaker’s deadpanned comment, though she had a smile on her face when she slipped into the hall. Isaac joined her in the hallway when she paused to lock her door, still wearing only his ratty sweatpants. The slacker and nature lover made their way downstairs and into the cafeteria, where most of the other contestants had already gathered. Robert passed by the pair with a plate in hand and greeted his teammates. “See, he’s not following your dress code.” Isaac remarked, pointing to the brick house, who’d come to breakfast dressed in only his boxer shorts. “Did I have to get dressed before I left my room?” Robert asked, looking at the other players scattered around the cafeteria. “A few other people were in their pajamas, so I thought-” “Nah, you’re good, big guy.” Isaac clapped the footballer on the shoulder and then took a whiff of the food on his plate. “Is that real bacon and eggs?” “Yeah, just like my mom makes.” The footballer nodded. The slacker inspected the food. “Does the bacon taste like it’s actually made from pig, or did Chef fry up some squirrels or something?” “Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick!” Cara gagged, holding a hand over her mouth. “Risty made it, so I think you’re safe.” Robert gestured towards the serving window, where Risty and Minerva were passing out bacon and eggs from a set of silver trays. Isaac rushed in their direction, bumping several people out of line in order to get to the food before them. “You okay?” Robert asked, putting a comforting hand on Cara’s back. The environmentalist smiled up at the athlete, though her face was still a bit green. “I’ll be fine.” When she saw the plate in Robert’s hand, she gently pushed it away. “Just please keep that bacon away from me.” “Here, let’s get you over to the table.” Robert guided Cara over to the long table that their Oscar teammates occupied. He claimed a spot and then sat the brunette in the empty chair between Irina and himself. “Vegetarian?” Irina guessed when seeing her teammate’s disgusted face. Cara nodded. “How’d you know?” “Just a good guess.” Though she had barely anything on her tray, the model took an apple off her plate and handed it to Cara. “Here.” “They have fruit up there?” Cara accepted the apple, glancing over towards the kitchen. “I don’t know. Camille gave it to me from her purse.” Irina tilted her chin towards the dark-haired ditz sitting across from her. She was rummaging through the aforementioned bag, unaware that she’d become the topic of conversation. Cara perked up at the sight of her roommate, whose presence she had only just noticed now that the bacon was off her mind. “Oh, hey there!” “Good morning.” Camille greeted. “I couldn’t find you this morning. Isaac said he heard you in the shower really early.” Camille only nodded in response. “Oh. Do you usually do that?” She nodded again, and Cara’s smile became a bit uncertain. “Oh … okay then.” As Cara tried to strike up a conversation with the rest of her teammates, Sebastian entered the room, looking ready for business. Ignoring the breakfast line, he scanned The Emmys’ table to find that the person he was looking for was already seated. Confession Cam Sebastian: “Last night, I went through these cards and learned all about my new teammates.” He held up Rachel Claire’s index cards for the camera to see. “Unfortunately, I found that most of them are really stupid, useless, or both. Three of them are spoiled rich kids, two are too innocent for their own good, and one of them never shuts up. If I want to make it far in this game, I’m going to need at least one ally with a brain. So, with an easy process of elimination,” He dropped all but one notecard to the ground, “I’ve found the one person that I need to convince to trust me.” He flipped the single remaining card over to reveal the name written across it. “Belladonna Surmaine.” “Is this seat taken?” “Not yet.” Donna didn’t look up from the thick book resting on her lap as Sebastian sat in the chair beside her. She tried to ignore him as he picked at a piece of toast that he’d snagged from somebody’s plate on the way over, though she caught him sneaking glances at her from the corner of her eye. After an awkward minute of this, she snapped her book shut. “What do you want?” “Why would you think that I want something from you?” Sebastian asked, casually leaning an elbow on the table. “Did you ever consider that maybe I just want to talk to my teammate?” Donna narrowed her eyes at him. “Then start talking.” “What are you reading?” “''The Quintessential Guide to Getting Disqualified from a Reality Show.” “Come on, I’m serious.” “I’m not reading anything at this moment,” She held up the hardback in her hands. “You wouldn’t stop bothering me, so I had to shut my book, remember?” “Okay, then who are you rooming with?” “Ophelia.” The gambler frowned in sympathy. “Tough luck getting the crazy one.” The smart aleck shook her head in disagreement. “She’s scatterbrained but really sweet, and I’d much rather room with her than with that vain hotel heiress.” ”Good point. I share a bathroom with her and she’s already pitched a fit.” Sebastian expected Donna to continue the conversation as he bit into his toast, though he only received a dark blue glare. “What?” “Now that we’ve ‘just talked,’ what do you want?” “Okay, okay, you’ve got me.” Sebastian held up his hands. “I just heard something about you and wanted to know if it was true.” “You must have heard that I'm a bitch, right? Well, get this …” Donna gestured for the dark-skinned teen to lean closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s not just a rumor. It’s totally true.” “That might be true, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” The card player didn’t bite at her attempt to lure him away. “I’ve heard that you’re a bit of a genius.” The brunette scowled, awkwardly breaking eye contact with her teammate to push her eggs around with a fork. “Who told you that?” “I’m too honest of a man to reveal my sources.” “Ha. I’m sure.” The smart aleck rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Rumors can tell some nasty lies.” After a moment, she added, “''This rumor, however, may or may not be true.” “If you haven’t noticed, our team isn’t exactly made up of Major City’s finest.” Sebastian waved his hand in the direction of the other Emmys sitting farther down the table. Donna’s eyes followed the gesture just in time to see Victor accidentally fling a forkful of eggs into Monique’s hair. The designer snapped at the actor and swiped the food away, her hand smacking Gabe in the face in the process. The rich kid screamed something at her and then scrambled to look at his reflection in a spoon, knocking over his glass of juice with his elbow. Wes and Ophelia leapt from their chairs before the liquid could spill on them, the musician struggling to hold back a laugh at his teammates’ predicament but the artist cracking up immediately. “Okay, I can agree with you on that.” Donna admitted. “When surrounded with idiots, we sane people have to stick together, right?” “Are you suggesting-?” “An alliance?” Sebastian finished the sentence with a charming grin. “Yes.” Donna didn’t answer for a minute, her lips pursed in contemplation. “No.” “Why not?” “I’m not going to trust somebody that I barely know, and I’m definitely not handing over my vote at elimination.” The pale girl opened her book again. “If I have to be stuck on this show, I’m not giving up the only thing I have a little control over.” The gambler frowned. “But will you consider it?” “I’ll consider it more than if, say, Gabe had asked me.” “What if I-” Sebastian was interrupted by a scream echoing through the cafeteria. All eyes turned to the entrance to see Elena stomp in, her hair hanging in limp tendrils around her. “WHO IS THE JERK WHO RUINED MY SHOWER?!” The socialite bellowed, marching over to The Emmys’ table to eye her teammates in suspicion. “I was shampooing my hair when all of a sudden the damn shower head fell apart and hit me in the face! I spent like twenty minutes trying to fix the thing until I realized that all the screws were missing and that somebody’d taped it together! I blew so much time trying to fix the piece of crap that I couldn’t do my hair if I wanted breakfast!” She flared her nostrils at her team. “So, which one of you little turds did it?!” Elena was so focused on giving the other Emmys a death glare that she didn’t notice when a cackling Zack slipped into the room. The spiky-haired geek stepped up to the serving counter with a tray, his laughter never stopping. Risty took one look at him and had to smile. “What’re you so happy about?” She asked, scooping some food onto his plate. Zack snickered again as he rummaged through his shorts pocket, pulling out something that was concealed in his fist. “I’ll trade you this for some extra bacon.” The curly-haired athlete eyed the unknown object in his closed hand, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Okay, it’s a deal.” She scraped a pile of bacon onto his tray, and he dropped the items into her hand. They were four screws, probably too small for one of the technophile’s inventions, though they were just about the right size to fit in … “The shower head.” Risty laughed as Zack walked away. “I like your style, kid!” The inventor jokingly shot a finger gun and a wink at her from over his shoulder as he took a seat at the table. After breakfast, the twenty-one contestants were instructed to get dressed and meet Chef Hatchet in the lobby. Sporting his trademarked furious scowl, the gruff man only grunted before heading for the exit. The players eventually realized that this was a signal to follow and trailed after the cook. Chef led the group deeper into McLean Studios until nearing one of the edges of its property, where a small mansion stood. The exterior of the building seemed to be based on a classic Gilded Age manor, though Chef Hatchet took little care when rapping the metal doorknocker against the expensive wooden door. After a moment, the door creaked open, and Chef propped himself against it to prevent it from swinging shut. “Your challenge is in there.” He said as they filed into the building. “You’re not coming?” Minerva asked. “I ain’t gettin’ involved with this one.” The cook rolled his eyes and shoved Minerva into the mansion. “All I did was ask a question!” Minerva exclaimed as the door was slammed behind her. As the competitors moved as a group into what must have been a foyer, they noticed that the interior of the mansion matched its grand exterior. The floor was covered in dark marble tiles, and the room was lit mainly by a chandelier hanging from the sloped ceiling. The furniture was a deep red velvet, and perfect knock-offs of famous paintings covered the walls. While some of the other players stared in awe, Gabe just snorted. “This is smaller than my summer home.” “Ladies and dudes!” Chris McLean emerged from behind a door to the contestants’ left, wearing a suit despite the fact that he’d already shattered the image with his greeting. “Welcome to La Mansión Malvada.” “The evil mansion?” Angel translated. “Oh, that’s what it means?” Chris questioned, sitting on top of what was probably a priceless antique desk. “I thought it meant marvelous mansion. Guess that’s why I failed high school Spanish. Whatever, either way, this is the site of your second challenge!” He dramatically held his hands in the air, though he didn’t receive a reaction. “Um, you’re supposed to be shocked.” “Chef already said that the challenge was in here.” Allison explained. “Ugh, really?! Just because he thinks this is stupid doesn’t mean he has to ruin my fun.” The host pouted. “Let me guess, he already spoiled the theme for you?” When the contestants shook their heads in denial, Chris perked up again. “Oh, sweet! Now, I’m sure you’ve all seen a promo of a handsome man in a tux during the commercial break of your favorite shows. It doesn’t matter what lame dating show he’s promoting, because they’re all the same: one guy gets a bunch of hot girls who try to rock his world, and he chooses his favorite as the winner. “Well, today’s challenge is dating show themed, except I’m going to be the bachelor, and you are going to impress me. The winning team unfortunately doesn’t get a date or a husband out of the deal … but they do win safety from elimination! Any questions?” “Do we have the option to impress a girl instead?” Victor asked. “Nope! You’re stuck with me, bra!” Chris gave the actor a wink, and Victor stuck out his tongue in disgust. “Ooh, ooh! I have a question!” Minerva raised her hand as though she was in a classroom. Chris rolled his eyes and then pointed at her. “What does the winning team get?” “Try listening next time because I already said that.” The narcissist looked around the room. “Anyone else?” Minerva’s hand went up again, but he ignored it. “No? Good. Follow me out back.” “Whoa, I didn’t think this was that kind of romance show.” Isaac backed away from the host. “It’s not. You’ll have to earn your chance to impress me.” Chris opened a set of double doors and led the players out to a large covered porch. On the table in the center of the area were seven bows and two piles of arrows. The arrows all had pink heads, though one stack had red fletching while the others had yellow. The host boosted himself up onto the back railing of the porch. “They say that love is blind.” Ophelia swooned in aspiration of a sappy love story. “However, we all know the truth: love is actually caused by Cupid. Cupid is this little bro in a diaper who flies around shooting arrows at people to make them fall in love. Today, you guys get to play Cupid.” Chris pointed over his shoulder to the expanse of green grass that made up the mansion’s sprawling backyard. “If you squint a little you might see that there are seven heart-shaped targets set up … oh, about seventy feet away. Going seven at a time, you each have one shot to hit a target with your arrow. Everyone has to shoot, which means no cheating and giving the jock all the arrows. Obviously you’re going to want to aim for the heart in front of you, but if you want to get creative we’ve got the arrows color-coded for you: red feathers for The Emmys, yellow for The Oscars. Each hit is a chance for your team to try to impress me.” Confession Cam Eric: “Chris, man, you’re slipping. The second challenge in season one was the Awake-a-thon, which was brutal. This is cake, son!” The jock made another one of his “gangsta” hand gestures, though this one was a symbol straight out of sci-fi rather than the streets. “He did call out my idea of letting me shoot all the arrows, but impressing him will be easy. ‘Impress’ is my middle name!” He pounded on his chest in pride, but then paused. “Actually, my middle name’s Lamont, but close enough!” In a few minutes, Minerva, Zack, Irina, Paul, Gabe, Avery, and Cara had lined up in front of the railing, while Chris had commandeered a motor scooter from an intern running errands and was trekking his way out to the targets. Paul easily snapped his arrow onto the bowstring, realizing when he saw the other six fiddling with their bows that he must be the only person in the line with archery experience. Beside him, Irina thought she had the arrow lined up, but when she shifted her hands it clattered to the ground. “Need some help?” Paul tried to keep cool as he said it, though he could feel his heart speed up when the beautiful girl’s blue eyes locked onto his. “Yes, please.” Irina handed the bow over to her teammate, though it almost slipped to the ground because his palms were now lightly dampened with sweat. “The arrows have this little notch on the back that you can use to line it up on the bowstring, see?” The Boy Scout tried to keep a suave smile on his face, though he was so distracted by the model that he missed the string the first few times that he tried to line up the nock. When it finally clicked into place, he passed the bow back to Irina. “There you go!” “Thank you very much.” Irina took what she thought was an archer’s stance, experimentally pulling the string back. “Um, I think you’d have a better chance if you pulled it back a little farther.” Paul advised. “How did you become Mr. Archery?” Irina asked. Paul thought she was mocking him at first, though when he saw her adjust her arm in response to his advice he recognized that she was genuinely curious. “Archery’s kind of a big deal at Scout Camp.” The do-gooder said. “I’ve gone every summer that I can remember, so it’s become so natural to me that this is easy.” “Then at least we know we have one chance at getting a bull’s eye.” The blonde replied, her body locked in the stance Paul had suggested. “You don’t need a bull’s eye.” The black-haired teen pointed out. “You just need to get your arrow somewhere on the target.” “Okay, everyone!” Chris’s voice crackled from a hidden loudspeaker. “You can let ‘em rip!” “Only an absolute professional can turn archery into a fart joke.” Zack sniggered, the first to raise his bow and release his shot. Halfway to its target, the red-tailed arrow veered slightly to the left before burrowing itself into the ground. Following Zack’s lead, the other five contestants raised their bows in unison, as Irina’s was already up. Looking down the line of arrowheads, only Paul’s and Irina’s seemed to be lined up properly. Minerva was even holding her bow backwards, though everybody’s reluctance to believe she was really that clueless kept them from mentioning it to her. They let their arrows fly, with Minerva’s predictably shooting through one of the windows behind her. Cara’s stopped short, and Avery’s went way too far, though the other three were still on route to their targets when they faded from view. After a minute, Chris announced, “And two yellow arrows have hit the targets! The red one stopped a bit short.” “This must be rigged.” Gabe scowled when Paul and Irina high-fived beside him. The seven shooters handed their bows over to Monique, Angel, Isaac, Wes, Victor, Eric, and Ophelia, who took their positions in front of the railing. Eric looked at the pale-haired artist studying her bow beside him and let out a laugh. “I’d figure you’d be used to bow and arrow in whatever weird elfy world you came from.” Ophelia looked up at the jock in confusion. “What is that supposed to mean?” “You look like you have no idea what you’re doing.” The jock taunted. “Chris should’ve just given you a rubber band and a ball of paper to shoot to make more room for the big guns.” “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t see any ‘big guns’ around here.” Victor quipped from Eric’s other side, putting mocking air quotes around the jock’s phrase. “I consider her beauty to be exquisite, but you can think what you want, though I doubt she cares about someone who doesn’t even know how to work a belt.” “Why I oughta-” Eric pulled up his saggy pants and then turned to aim his bow at Victor. The actor reflected the battle position as the braggart’s jeans drooped to expose his boxers again. “Um, guys?” Wes peeked over Victor’s head. “Can I suggest you don’t kill each other on TV? The whole world’s watching, remember?” Eric glowered at Victor for another minute before lowering his weapon. “Whatever, but I could take you any day, fruitcake.” He glanced up at Wes. “You too, man.” Chris cleared his throat over the loudspeaker. “Any day now, guys.” With a huff, Eric launched his arrow, the other six contestants following suit shortly after. Monique and Angel’s arrows were crooked in the air and way off course, while Victor’s hit the ground at about the halfway point. Having been thrown off by the argument, Eric’s arrow was shot nearly vertically and landed an embarrassing five feet in front of him. “We’ve got three arrows on the targets!” Chris declared. “Two reds and a yellow. Who didn’t see theirs go down?” Isaac and Wes both raised their hands, and eventually Ophelia squealed in delight. “Oh my god, that’s me!” She put her hands over her heart in excitement. Eric swore under his breath and stomped back over to his waiting teammates, giving the artist a clear view of Victor. Ophelia gave him a grateful thumbs up, which he returned. The remaining seven contestants, Risty, Camille, Robert, Elena, Sebastian, Donna, and Allison, received the bows and took their spots by the railing. As soon as Chris gave the signal, an arrow whizzed by him, just missing his ear by mere centimeters. When the rogue shot dug into the center of the target, the competitors looked down the line to find its shooter, only to stare in confusion that Camille’s bow was the only one that was empty. “Holy crap.” Risty gaped. Oblivious to the attention she was receiving, Camille leaned her bow against the railing and picked her purse off the ground before rejoining her teammates. Once the awe faded, Robert was the next to release, his arrow embedding itself in the upper right side of his target. Seeing the two Oscars’ success, Risty, Elena, Sebastian, and Allison all took their shots, and all but Elena’s managed to hit the target. Chris’s jaw dropped. “''What?!” He dismounted his scooter and crossed the line of fire, turning around to examine the targets just as Donna shot her arrow. “These things must’ve been moved closer or somethi- YOOO''OOWWWCH!” The smart aleck’s projectile had made it the correct distance, though her aim was completely off, and instead of hitting her target she had shot Chris in the backside. Though all they could see in the distance was the host’s scrambling silhouette, the screech of pain told everyone exactly where the arrow had landed. Donna stood on the porch with her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide. “Smooth move!” Allison cackled despite Donna’s mortification. The brunette soon realized that none of the other contestants at the railing seemed affected by what was bound to be an arrowhead-shaped dent in their host’s behind. Robert was trying to get a spider hanging from a nearby web to crawl onto his finger, Elena was fiddling with her hair, and Risty looked almost satisfied by the scene. Sebastian gave Donna a cocky grin and raised an eyebrow. “You seem like you were distracted.” He commented, not even flinching when Chris yowled at the arrow’s removal. “Maybe you were thinking about the offer I’d made you earlier?” Donna snapped out of her daze now that the arrow had been removed, her worried face converting back to her usual unenthused frown. “Not a chance.” “Well, you should’ve been.” Sebastian strolled back over to rejoin the other Emmys, unaware that Elena had been listening to the exchange with a curious expression. Confession Cam Elena: “I watch shows like this all the time, so I know an alliance when I see one.” The dark-haired girl crossed her arms. “If Sebastian is looking for alliance members, I want in! If I have to be working with somebody on my team, it has to be him. He seems smart, charming, and like he has a plan … not to mention he’s easy on the eyes.” Allison: The scarlet-haired teen was clutching her sides in laughter. “I can’t believe she hit him in the ass!” She tried to catch her breath, though she ended up breaking into another giggle fit. “Oh, I love this show.” Chris had ridden his motor scooter back across the lawn, one hand holding the arrows that had hit their targets while the other clutched his rear. “The Oscars have earned six tries, The Emmys have earned four, and I’m sure that butt shot earned me a headline in the magazines, so I need to talk to my PR manager and get an ice pack. In the meantime, you guys have to figure out how to impress me.” He turned to the camera, wincing as his injury shifted on the seat. “Will anybody be able to impress a man who already has everything? Will I be able to hunt down who shot that arrow and give their team a disadvantage? Most importantly: will my butt ever be the same? Find out when we come back on Total … Drama … Island: For Your Entertainment!” <<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>>